


Ivy's Night Off

by PoisonKisses



Category: Batman (Comics), Gotham City Sirens (Comics)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Masturbation, Self Care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 22:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12375738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonKisses/pseuds/PoisonKisses
Summary: She doesn't do it often, but even Poison Ivy occasionally needs a night to herself.





	Ivy's Night Off

**Author's Note:**

> A little self-care goes a long way
> 
> Spoilers for Batman up through the War of Jokes and Riddles story arc.

Tonight was the night.

Poison Ivy, Pamela Isley, was excited. It had been a long time since she last dedicated an evening to just her.

She strode through her little, secret apartment on the outskirts of Gotham--a place only for her that no one, not even Harley, knew about. A little refuge. She didn’t come here often, Poison Ivy rarely felt the need to find a refuge from the world, but even she required a moment to collect herself, take a breather, spend a quiet night alone, on occasion. 

Ivy was...different...from most women, most humans. She didn’t suffer the outrages the human body often put on them...no menstruating, or hormonal shifts, or bloodsugar dips, or biological urges to deal with, and usually that suited her just fine. Not being human wasn’t a terrible fate, she’d reflected more than once.

But sometimes...just sometimes...she missed it. Missed the tingle and the rush, the warmth and the flow and the endorphins, and when that happened, she’d occasionally take the night off to give herself some ME time.

The _Rosa nepenthes_ were coming along beautifully and she was excited about the prospects of her little genetic splicing project. Her blog, _Tips From the Green Goddess,_ was updated (and she’d enjoyed a truly insightful exchange with her favorite poster, MrPenny, who was asking about growing notoriously picky _Narcissus gothamus_ \--the Gotham Winking Daffodil--in the acidic soil of north Gotham’s wealthiest communities.)

Her bath was slowly filling now, and she stopped to add several vials of her favorite blend of essential oils--a heady mix of herbal oils well known for their aphrodisiac qualities (pomegranate seed, rose otto, etc.) The steam smelled delicious, and she smiled a secret, wicked smile at the thought of what was coming. The lights were already turned down, the candles lit and flickering, filling the air with a matching aroma. Several dozen of them, all around her bathroom, were giving off warm sensual light and an enticing scent already.

Near the tub, a bottle of wine made from her very own grapes and bottled by her was chilling in a bucket of ice. She crossed into her small living area and turned on her “Sexy evening” mix. Soon, soft jazz filled the air, and she turned the sound down until it was almost inaudible--just a subconscious ambience, the percussion an imperceptible throb in the back of the mind.

Ivy didn’t become aroused naturally.

It was a factor that most people didn’t know. She’d explained it to Harley several times, who never seemed to quite get it. For Ivy, sexual arousal was a chemical process she had to consciously begin. To get turned on, she had to actually flip a figurative switch, and earlier, as she ate her dinner (a nice garlic pasta with a vegan roasted tomato sauce) she’d slowly begun to flip that switch, wanting the experience of feeling herself building, a delicious heat in her belly, spreading out, making a distracting, unfamiliar, but not at all unwelcome tightness and pressure in her breasts, her sex. She stood, listening to the music, with shivers moving up and down her body, her eyes half closed. She chuckled breathlessly when she realized she was licking her full lips and running a hand over her bare stomach.

“Pam, you need to remember to do this more often and not let it build up so much,” she muttered with a shaky laugh.

She liked using her fingers best. Oh, she’d tried other methods--toys, the pulse setting on the showerhead--but she couldn’t bring herself to enjoy a piece of plastic, or glass, or even water in quite the same way she did her own skin. Sometimes she’d been known to use a plant, and animating something wasn’t a challenge, but it still wasn’t quite the same. Some of her past lovers had enjoyed that sort of thing, but for her, just her, she preferred her own slender, clever digits.

Idly, she wondered if Mera used water? That brought a smile to her lips as she pictured the beautiful Atlantean queen, head thrown back, back arching, moaning softly as a tendril of water penetrated her. The analyst part of her brain immediately questioned if Mera could maintain the concentration for it, especially as orgasm approached.

“I doubt it.” She said out loud, smirking as she turned to walk to the bath. She was nude, her sleek, voluptuous body a beautiful golden in the light of several dozen candles. Her bath was full now, aromatic steam streaming off of it. She had an image of Mera fixed in her mind--gorgeous, taller than she, and leaner, but smaller across the hips and much smaller across the bust, less full lips, but long silky hair almost the color of Ivy’s own.

“I think I have a new conquest to plan.” She said it out loud, again, shaking her head. She’d opened the figurative floodgates, and desire was making her heart pound. She was wet, aroused enough she could feel the moisture and heat, and it was all she could do to keep from clamping her thighs together. She ached. Just as a test, she ran one hand over her breast and gasped when she grazed the hard nipple. 

Forcing herself to hold off just a bit longer, she uncorked the wine, filled a flute, and placed it next to the tub. Then she piled her thick red curls on top of her head and was in the process of pinning it up when it happened.

The doorbell rang.

The Goddamned Doorbell.

For a long moment, she just stared. No one knew she was here. Maybe it was a trick and she hadn’t heard it at all and she was imagining things.

_Ding Dong!_

“Mother FUCKER.” She snarled it. Ivy rarely cursed, so when she did it was jarring to everyone, especially herself. She blinked when it rang a third time, and with angry motions she put the glass down and hurried across the little apartment, snatching at a silk robe and belting it with a jerk before bending down to look through the keyhole.

Standing outside was Catwoman.

Without hesitating, Ivy stood, threw back three deadbolts, the door chain, and the lock on the doorknob, and opened her door.

Selina looked rough. She was barely on her feet, literally wavering as she stood there, and drenched. Ivy’d vaguely been aware it was raining, but in her own little bubble she hadn’t paid attention to how long or how hard. Clearly it was a downpour. Selina’s short dark curls were plastered to her head, and she was dripping, making a small but growing dark stain on the threadbare carpet of the little apartment building’s hallway. Her makeup was running, leaving her with trails of mascara down her cheeks and raccoon eyes. She was in her Catwoman outfit, but the hood was back and her goggles were in her hand.

There were rips in the black latex, and Ivy could spot the telltale flash of red that meant blood--Selina’d been fighting. 

“Selina?” she rasped.

“Hey there, Ives.” Selina’s voice was scratchy and subdued. Ivy noted how bloodshot her eyes were, puffy. _She’s been crying…_

“Jesus, Selina, come in. What the hell happened? How did you find me? Why are you here?” The questions came rapid-fire, Ivy couldn’t stop them from tumbling out. She ushered the other woman inside, then dashed away for a towel. Selina stood pliantly, still dripping, and didn’t protest when Ivy wrapped her in it, drying her. She didn’t answer right away.

“Selina. Earth to Selina…”

“Hey…”

“Yeah,” Ivy snapped, “You said as much already. Care to fill me in? Did someone do this to you? Who did it? Who am I killing?”

“No, no, I’m just. Sorry, I didn’t have anywhere else to go…”

Ivy blinked. Wracking her brain, she couldn’t think of anytime she’d ever seen Selina like this.  
“Alright. Fine. Strip out of...this. There are towels in the cabinet over the toilet. I’m going to put on some coffee for you and some water for my tea. Clearly there is a story here.”

Selina looked at her, eyes unfocused, and then nodded slowly. “Right, ok. Thanks, Ives.”

Frustrated, Ivy hurried to the kitchen, the mindless tasks helping to keep her from thinking about the curling heat still in her belly, the ache between her legs. She wanted to be angry at Selina, but she’d felt lost and alone before, and she could see that in Selina’s eyes. 

She couldn’t abandon her. Ivy wasn’t built that way.

Twenty minutes later she was sitting across from the other woman, her legs curled underneath her and a steaming cup of tea in her hand. 

Selina was clean, face washed, a thick towel wrapped around her naked body, both hands wrapped around a cup of coffee she was cradling with both hands like a lover.

“He asked me tonight.”

Ivy stared, took a sip of delicious orange flavored blend, then said, as quietly and calmly as she could, “Who asked you what tonight?”

“Batman. He asked me to marry him.”

The apartment would have been silent if the quiet jazz hadn’t been playing along in the background. Ivy pointedly ignored the roiling wave of arousal she was still suffering and asked the obvious question. “Alright. Why is that a bad thing?”

Selina glanced up, eyes still dead. “Ivy, he told me this story. This deep dark confession of his, because he couldn’t bear to be with me with this terrible secret.”

Ivy fought the urge to make an indecorous snort. “Batman has a terrible secret?”

“You remember back in the early days when the Joker and Eddie went after each other?”

“Vaguely.” It was true, she tended to not pay attention to either of them. Especially back then, when her focus had been entirely on saving the world and seducing Batman.

“He told me all about it. How he fought to stop it all, but he made mistakes. He said you joined the Riddler, wore one of his little armbands…”

She had to stop because Ivy’d started laughing. “No, I’m afraid not. Have you ever known any version of me that could stand Eddie? I was barely aware it was going on at the time, my mind was on other things. I’m afraid Batman got his facts mixed up.”

Selina nodded, “So anyway, he tells me this long convoluted story about how he almost did this terrible thing. Ivy. His big, deep, dark secret? Was that he almost killed Eddie. That’s it. That was his lowest point, according to him.”

Ivy stared, took a sip of tea, not sure what to do with that.

“I can’t...Ivy. He’s Bruce fucking Wayne. I’m an orphan from the streets of Gotham--he had one tragedy in his life, one. You? Me? Harley? Our whole LIVES are tragedy. I realized when he told me that story that I’m just...I don’t know...something he thinks he can plug in the hollow spot in his chest where most of us have a heart and soul. What does he know about loss?” She put her face in her hands. “Shit. I just outed him.” Her voice was muffled.

Ivy wasn’t good at this, human comfort. She stared at her tea and tried to think of what someone like Batgirl would say.

“I knew. We all know...well, the morons like Eddie can’t seem to figure it out and the obsessed ones don’t really care. There’s really only one person who it COULD be.”

Selina looked up, a ghost of a smile crossing her lips. “How long have you known?”

Ivy took a sip to think. “Since that first night. I kissed Bruce Wayne. Then I kissed Batman. Honestly, Selina, I kiss a lot of frogs, but I’m not so promiscuous with my kisses I can’t tell I’m kissing the same man inside of one night just because he’s wearing a Halloween costume.”

Selina snickered, sat her coffee cup down. “I don’t know what to do, Ivy. I know this ain’t exactly your thing, I just needed someone I could talk to.”

“Which part of this isn’t my thing?” Ivy arched a brow, and Selina shrugged a single, bare shoulder.

“You know, relationship stuff. Especially with a man. Love and all that.”

“What makes you think I don’t know about Love?”

She looked uncomfortable. “Well, you know. You’re very...uhm...cold, Ives. You come across as a bit of an ice queen. The only person I know you’ve...uhm...dated, I guess, is Harley. I just…” she stared at her coffee and trailed off.

Ivy was still tingling, trying not to stare at Selina’s bare legs. _Get a grip, Pam!_

“I’ll concede the point. I’m not given to displays of affection, but Selina, I’ve made a career out of manipulating hearts. I’ve learned how they work.” She paused, took a sip of tea. “Do you love him?”

“Of course.” Selina spoke without hesitation. “Probably from the first time he jumped off a building after me. Is that crazy?”

“I tried my hand at him more than once. Clearly I don’t think so. Selina, you’re overcomplicating it. If you love him, and you want this, do it.”

“There’s no way, we’re just too different, I could never fit in his world, Ivy.”

“You don’t fit in my world either, yet here you are.” Ivy put her tea down, urging herself not to lick her lips. “Selina, whatever you decide, you know I’ll support you. So will Harley, in her own way.”

“Yeah, I know, I just…”

Impulsively, Ivy stood, crossed, and sat next to Selina, who stared at her. Ivy was not a touchy sort of person, she tended to maintain an extreme personal bubble, so when she pulled Selina in close, it was a shock--to both of them.

“Life is too short, Selina. I think you already know the answer.”

And she did.

For a long time, she held Selina close, and they talked. About Marriage. Weddings. Life after marriage. Selina felt good--soft, warm, rose-scented, honest. Ivy was proud she was able to pay attention to what Selina was saying and not just the fact that Selina’s towel clung to her body in a very fetching way…

After a companionable silence, Selina suddenly blurted, “Oh shit. Ivy, did I interrupt something?”

Ivy’d hoped she wouldn’t take notice--bath, candles, sexy music. Selina was craning her head around, and now she was grinning. Ivy rolled her eyes.

“Yes. In fact, I was planning a night alone before you showed up. As a good friend, I decided to make sure you were ok, just as a good friend would be hesitant to make fun of someone planning on spending time on self-care.”

Selina laughed. “Oh my god, passive aggressive much? I’m not making fun, I just…” her grin faded. “I think it’s cool that you’re more human than you let on, and I’m sorry I ruined your night.”

Ivy huffed, gave a long-suffering sigh. “I didn’t say you ruined my night. Selina, if I was that selfish I would have just told you to go away.”

“Yeah, I know. I feel like a dick, though. My non-problems getting in the way of your plans. I should go, maybe you can--”

Ivy cut her off.

“No, stay. It’s late, you’d have to get dressed, and I’m not letting you put that filthy suit back on.”

Selina smirked.

“How about this…” She leaned back and let the towel drop with a slight jerk of her hand, the cloth dropping away and revealing her breasts, the beautiful skin, a few random scars. Selina bit her lip, almost demurely. “Pam, why don’t you grab us a second glass for that bottle, I’ll run us fresh hot water, and maybe we can salvage some of this night?”

She saw Selina shiver at her expression, because Ivy was still switched ‘on’ and she couldn’t stop the hungry, hot, look as she drank in Selina’s revealed body.

“Be careful what you ask for, kitten.”


End file.
